


Transgressio

by shslivalice



Series: animulae [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Multiple Universes Colliding, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 13:47:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18605773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shslivalice/pseuds/shslivalice
Summary: After the world ends, who decides how the next Star is crafted? A conversation between a God and one who survived.





	Transgressio

When an iteration dies, not all is lost. No, it is not simply the souls which linger, coming together and resting until a new world was welcome for them - in the realm between realms. Nor is it beings like Omega, who could survive and procreate. But sometimes, very rarely, objects survive. The objects survive, becoming relics.

That was what had happened in this iteration - though perhaps this one was simply different. For this was not the fifteenth one - that one had come and passed, falling into chaos and being devoured much like the fourteenth. No, it had been long since then. The stars had grown darker, the light and dark had bled near-dry.

It was almost a miracle when a man stood on one Star, looking around. Quiet, distracted. His body covered in machines, many angellic wings trailling behind him. His gaze was heavy, his heart heavier. Flames of souls followed him. Not even the Goddess Bolormaa, or the God who was once the Warrior of Light had awoken here, to continue what must be done. Planesgorgers had vanished, at least, for the time being. There was nothing except for him. Even his fellow Gods had gone into a deep slumber.

Alexander stood alone. It was time to craft another realm, one outside the iterations. One which would lure those beings, but would also hold that hope which people tried to cultivate. But by the many stars and worlds, Alexander was tired. Perhaps this time, he would not join them. As he touched his golden necklace, chain heavily tugging at the heart-shaped clock on it, his pure blue eyes closed. He knew it would hurt his love. For them not to remain together...

...but there was no way that this would be the end. This star would be consumed again (and again and again, everybody would perish), and then they could meet again. Perhaps there would be time where his love could have a physical body. Perhaps not, and his love would remain here once everything went out, flame within his heart.

But as Alexander walked, a blue glint caught his eye, though the nothingness around them. There was something here...? As he moved, it was not simply a blue glint - but a tower. One made of crystal-- the one from the fourteenth iteration. It was much more detailed then the older one, reaching into eternity. Piercing though what looked like a massive red beetle, one broken. A corpse left behind from that iteration? It was easy to slip though memories, easy to see into their past - but Alexander did not care. It was just another relic, one for them to discover.

Until the beetle seemed to shift, scanning him. Visor flickering. Unvoiced words trembling out, ones un-understandable. A broken machine. Even if Alexander had given up on his former life, he still saw the machine and felt a desire to fix it. (Perhaps he hadn't given up as much as he thought, as he moved closer and closer. As he saw the pathetic giant beast, the tower piercing though it.) The beetle - red with golden trim, symbols of a long-dead Empire tracing its' metal - continued to flicker at this tiny beast. It was lunar powered, but there was no sun or moon. Alexander could fix that, but the world was not ready.

Nothing was ready, as he began to tinker. Perhaps this relic could be used to help guide them--

"Oi."

Alexander recoiled at that familiar voice, that voice coming from the massive pathetic bug. A voice he hadn't heard since their Star fell. But... he couldn't quite remember his name. Still, it brought up conflicting feelings. Alexander stilled himself. "...yes?"

"I said oi, Garlond."

Again, Alexander stilled. Wings barely flapping. "...what do you want."

The robot - now realising he cannot move - let out a series of frustrated beeps. "Working legs, for one. <blip> But also some answers? Like... the current date and time? Seems I forgot."

It was not that the robot forgot - this... the name was on the tip of his tongue, but Alexander still couldn't remember it. But time was gone. As was most of space - this was all there was, and all that would be, until more was crafted. His voice was quiet, as he answered. "...This is between iterations - between Stars. Time doesn't exist, Scaeva."

Scaeva. Nero Scaeva - but this wasn't his. No, he carried a similar but different soul. He remembered... infinite iterations. Perhaps this one had survived differently then him, or the one he knew. Zurvan - his Nero had ascended to one of their Gods. Before awakening the souls which lingered, Alexander hoped to find some to become new Gods of this Star. Some from his iteration, perhaps some from the iteration of this other Nero? They had to have a reason to survive. And yet...

...and yet, he wondered. "...Your people, Scaeva. What are they like?"

That got a moveless laugh from the robot-- from Nero. "My people, Garlond? Please. We both know they're not mine. They just happen to come from Iteration XIV-3.56-4. Sure, I care about some of them. And sure, we all died together. They're resiliant, they stood together and changed their destiny. Even if Fate wanted to kill some, they decided to live. Hells - some got corrupted by Elder Wyrms, and came back from the brink."

Alexander listened - prodded at the memories brought up as Nero spoke nostalgically. Lovingly, though Nero wouldn't admit that. That was all he needed to know. To make his choice. If they would lose their memories or not... quietly, the God got back to repairing the Robot. Quietly, he whispered. "You're large. I think you'll..."

"Think I'll what?" Nero asked, a blip in his voice.

"...once I make this new world, people and beasts will need a place to live. Who knows how long it'll be until they can build up infrastructure?"

Nero seemed to pause, before laughing again. "So instead, you want me to make them a home. You know what? I'll do it. They'll rely on me, and I'll become their beloved home."

Alexander smiled to himself. Appealing to ego, then... but still. "...When they wake... you shall be ready?"

"Am I ever not, Garlond?"

...Garlond. Always Garlond. But Alexander sat, on top of the head of this beast, quiet and concerned. His choice? What should he choose - should he steal their memories or not? It felt like a choice that would create two different worlds... two different stories, two different lives for them.

Perhaps that was for the best.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i wanted to do a set-up for between animulae and the sequels and a reason for multiple different sequels if i wanna do slice of life fluffiness but also actually continue the story
> 
> also yes alexander, according to world of final fantasy, crafts all the ff worlds


End file.
